Eyes wide, the drunk took off running, and Eloise let out a breath of relief. Her savior cast his gaze aside so as not to look directly at her exposed chest. Even in the low light, it was apparent that he had a fine profile, with an aquiline nose and sharply cut cheekbones, over which his dark hair fell in loose waves. “Are you alright, miss?” he said. When she nodded, he offered a small smile, eyes still downcast. “You ought to cover yourself, if you can get your shirt to stay.”

Eloise grabbed at her fallen bodice utterly distracted by this statuesque figure before her. Heat rushed to her face and…lower parts. Parts a lady and certainly not one in her position should be thinking about it. She pinned the bodice back into place with a straight pin from between her corset stays, furiously trying to quell the blush rising in her cheeks. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it would do for the moment. “Thank you, sir,” she stuttered quietly.

“And get off the streets,” her rescuer added. “This is no place for a woman alone.” Even his voice was like pure molten steel. His eyes were impossible to look away from, as deep and as blue as the ocean itself.

He turned, his greatcoat swishing with his movement, and walked away. She made to call out her gratitude once more, but he had already disappeared into the bustle of the street. A handsome, chivalrous man, she thought to herself, and naturally, she was sure never to see him again.

***

Thanks to her employment at the Ivory Otter, Eloise had amassed enough coins to buy a new dress. Though, she thought, grimacing, it was also thanks to her employment at the pub that she needed a new dress in the first place.

The next morning, she made her way to the main street of the city, searching through the wares of the charity shop there. To her regret, she found only frocks she could barely fit an arm into and dresses big enough to wear simultaneously with both her sisters. Of course, there were plenty of men’s clothes in all sizes, and wasn’t that always the way—

She froze, hands brushing the weave of a man’s jacket. There was plenty of work available for men—more difficult work, certainly, but work where she would not need to fear assault. Perhaps she could turn the abundance of male clothes to her advantage…

In order to walk through the world without hassle, she needed to be invisible. Those who wielded the most power went about their business unseen, and she wanted an honest day’s wages without worrying that she might be attacked again.

If women were to be seen and not heard, she would have to become a man.

She rummaged through the piles of men’s clothes, found trousers and a shirt that looked like they would be a good fit, and took them to the front of the shop. The woman working at the counter smiled at her kindly, and Eloise asked, “Have you got a pair of scissors?”

The woman seemed puzzled for a moment, until she saw the clothes Eloise had chosen. “Ah, you’re wanting to cut your hair?”

Startled and caught-out, Eloise almost considered running. But the woman hadn’t been asking with ill intent. “How’d you know?”

The shopkeeper chuckled. “You’re not the first clever girl who’s been through here looking for a better life. I can cut it for you, if you like. No charge, if I get to keep what you don’t want. It’ll make some lovely wigs.”

Eloise had always navigated a complicated relationship with her hair. Long, thick, and unruly, it was both an utter pain to care for and the jewel of her beauty when properly attended to. She wanted to cling to it, yet she couldn’t wait to see it go.

Sitting in front of a mirror in the back of the shop, she watched as the first of her waist-length ringlets was sliced away, the remainder bouncing lightly against the tip of her chin. The shopkeeper worked quickly, and the transformation was substantial. Eloise was left with a short crop of reddish-brown curls nestled along her forehead and peeking out from behind her ears.

It was a shock to see herself like this—and a weight off her shoulders, both literally and figuratively.

“Why don’t you go in the back room and get changed?” said the woman, and Eloise agreed.

Once she was dressed, she turned to examine herself in the mirror. A teenage boy stared back at her. “Hello,” they said as one, the boy in the mirror offering her a cocky grin.

When she left the shop, she was whistling.

***

An hour later, snug between a couple of crates on the docks, Eloise struggled to come up with a plan. At first, she’d thought of getting another carriage ride abroad, but she no longer had the coin for such a trip. She could stay in Esterwell—but given how she had been attacked and how quickly she might be recognized, she didn’t quite feel safe enough to stay in Esterwell.

Thankfully, there was another way out of Esterwell.

The port was scurrying with activity, sailors coming and going from their ships. Sailors were paid decently well, she thought, and being at sea greatly reduced the risk of running into someone she knew. Not to mention no chance of being groped again in some seedy tavern. There was the faint possibility that she might be in danger if her gender was discovered, but so long as she kept to herself and was careful, she should be relatively safe.

She heard the sound of something heavy being dragged upwards, and she turned to see an anchor being pulled aboard a ship called The Galleon. Eloise quickly appraised the ship noting that there were two possible points of entry. Yes, this was her chance. She could stow away aboard The Galleon and hide until they were far out to sea, offer herself as a worker for wages.

She made to stand up and move towards the ship when she heard a scuffle further down the dock, moving closer.

Two men were bracing the shoulders of a third. The man they held was gagged, arms manacled—an unwilling and struggling prisoner. The two men held him firmly,, dragging him towards the very ship she had been about to board. The captive man headbutted one of his captors, momentarily breaking free. One of the other men shoved the back end of his pistol into the man’s stomach with force, and the captive grunted heavily around the cloth shoved in his mouth, falling to the ground. Now subdued, he was lifted bodily and dragged up the gangplank, whereupon something bright and metallic dropped to the docks from the captive’s person.

Alright, so, she certainly wouldn’t be boarding this ship, then. The object that had fallen, though, might prove valuable to her. Once she was sure of not being seen, Eloise sidled out of her hiding place and scooped it up.

A hawk pendant glittered on a golden chain. She considered fastening it around her own neck for safekeeping, but remembered that her trousers were outfitted with a truly marvelous feature, one that she didn’t know how she had lived so long without.

She slipped the chain into her front pocket and began looking for another ship to board.

In that moment, she saw him on the deck of The Lady Mary: her savior, broad and strong and handsome in the light of day. He was talking with one of the port clerks, presumably about the goods the ship would be transporting out of Wayfort. He looked serious, talking business, but then he clapped the clerk on the shoulder and smiled, and Eloise’s breath caught in her throat.

If she could only make her way aboard this ship somehow. She’d be with this gentleman, and if he was there, how bad could it be?

When she was sure that no one would see her, she strode casually over to the stack of barrels waiting to be picked up at the edge of the dock. It took nearly all of her strength to pry the lid off one of them. It contained pickled herring. She sighed and moved on to the next barrel, which, once opened, was stuffed to the brim with oriental rugs. “Sorry,” she said under her breath, tipping the contents into the ocean with a shove. “I’m sure you were very expensive.”

She climbed into the barrel and pulled the lid down after her. Then, she waited, legs beginning to cramp as the minutes ticked by.

Finally, there was the sound of a man grunting as he lifted the barrel up. “What in damnation is in this thing?!” she heard him say. The barrel landed on its side on the gangplank, and Eloise clutched desperate at its sides as it was rolled upward. Lord, I’m going to be sick…

Thankfully, her stomach held, and she was soon righted again and carried into the ship’s hold, where she remained until all was quiet and the ship was swaying.

It was some time before Eloise judged it safe enough to come out of her hiding place. The ship was starting to move, cresting and falling with the waves. She popped her head out of the barrel and peered out into the semi-darkness. Down here, the air was tinged with an acrid saltiness that crept down her throat and settled alongside the fear in her stomach. She nearly retched again, but forced herself to swallow against the urge. She could do this. She could. For her family.

She looked up the narrow wooden staircase built into the side of the hold. There was no sign of movement directly above, so she climbed up and stuck just enough of her head out into the open air so as to see out.

What she saw chilled the blood in her veins more effectively than the worst Brinovian winter.

Her gentleman savior had donned a black tri-cornered hat and a pistol in his belt. Holding the beautiful Lady Mary sign in his hands, he tossed it to the side, where it clattered onto the deck. Unfurling a black flag with white skull and crossbones at the center, he shouted, “The Serpent sails again!”

“Aye aye, Captain Hawk!” said a crew member, a cutlass gleaming in his belt. A cheer arose from the deck.

Eloise choked upon a scream. She was on a pirate ship. And not just any ordinary pirate ship.

She had trapped herself inside a floating prison with the notorious Bloody Hawk.